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Lightning That Strikes At Night
Lightning That Strikes At Night "Guard Night" is a small, slim black she-cat with a scarred pelt and narrow silver eyes. Personality Night is anything but friendly. She is quiet and cunning, blunt and short-tempered. She isn't afraid to tell you just what she thinks of your """skills""", and she'll do it without any sugar-coating or kindness of any sort. She is a brilliant fighter and strategist, and when it comes to profiling other cats, no one tops her. She can spend an hour with someone and know their strengths and weaknesses, likes and dislikes, just based on body language and what they prioritized talking about. She knows the fighting styles and strengths of every single guard under her watch, and can fix up a nearly fool-proof strategy in only a few minutes because of it. However, she's not the best at talking to cats because of how she profiles them. She sees them as strengths and weaknesses, and as a leader she feels inclined to address the weaknesses, which tends to leave her in bad standing with most cats. She is quick to discipline and slow to reward, as it's easier to meet her abysmal expectations than it is to impress her. From this comes her loathing for arrogance. Cockiness will get the best of cats killed in a battle, and so she addresses overconfidence the moment she sees it anywhere. Whether that's subtly challenging a to-be or lecturing a full-grown guard in front of the entire tribe, she'll do what it takes to teach her cats humility, and the value of knowing your limits. She has a penchant for cleanliness, and if a single feather is out of place in or around her nest, she is in a grouchy mood for the rest of the day. She never punishes to-bes in any way but cleaning, sending them to the nursery or the gardens to tidy something up until they stop whining. Though it is hard for a cat to reach her inner circles, she has a select few in her life that she allows close to her, and those few are cats she would sooner lay down her life for than watch die. She's not generally the self-sacrificing type, but she's had enough loss in her life that if she can keep one more cat close to her from dying, she'll gladly do so. History Night was born as Eren, in a small family near the base of the mountains. Her mother, Kuchel, died when she was still just a kit, though she was old enough to hold onto memories of her gentle nature and soft voice. Left on her own, she was taken under the wing of her Uncle Kenny, a rather brutal tom who was revered as the best fighter in the area. He was known to hunt down specific cats just to fight them and prove he was better, or because he was promised a handsome reward in leaf-bare prey if he killed them. Eren was brought along and taught to fight, swiftly becoming a deadly adversary despite her small size and young age. She was nearing nine moons old when she met a tom with a strange name, who told her of a group of she-cats living in the mountains that shunned toms and welcomed cats who came from situations like hers. The moment she could, she ran to join the Tribe, following Cloud across meadows and forests and into the hostile, unfamiliar land of the mountains. They were in sight of the Tribe border when Kenny caught up to them. Furious with his niece, he slaughtered Cloud in cold blood and turned on her, ready to kill. Eren, now terrified for her life, fought back fiercely. The battle ended with Kenny on the ground, dead, and Eren standing over his body, wounded and panting. She turned and ran, roaming the Tribe territory until she was found by a patrol, who took her back to camp and helped her heal. She was welcomed as a little blossom, a name that made her wrinkle her nose, but she soon proved her worth as a fighter and became a full-fledged cave-guard at fourteen moons old, earning her name. She rose through the ranks quickly, having a quick, deadly fighting style that was unfamiliar to the tribe cats and therefore difficult for them to defeat, and became the most skilled strategist and fighter in the tribe, though she was also the least friendly. When the head guard at the time passed away, the ancestors chose her to be her successor, and she became the youngest head guard in recent memory. To this day, no one in the tribe knows her story, only that it left her with scars on her pelt and more fierce claws than any other she-cat they knew.